Dream Vision
by staceycj
Summary: Sam is at Stanford and is dreaming about Dean dying alone and in pain...and it leaves Sam terrified.
1. Chapter 1

Sam gasped a breath and sat up straight, the shadows playing on his startled and tense features. Jessica roused from her slumber and put a hand on his heaving chest. She sat up more quickly when she realized her boyfriend's distress.

"Sam? You okay?" She asked. He nodded, despite the evidence to the contrary.

"Another nightmare?" she asked worriedly. He'd been having disturbing nightmares with more and more frequency as of late. He always brushed them off, said it was stress, or something to that effect, but she knew that they were more than simply stress. She knew with a woman's intuition, and with the knowledge one has when you love someone.

"I'm fine. Go back to sleep." He said and forced a smile.

She wasn't going to take the brush off this time. She turned on the light beside the bed, and turned to Sam. "You need to talk to me." She said sternly.

"I'm okay Jess. I didn't mean to wake you up." He said as he patted her leg and turned his body to escape the bed.

"No. You aren't Sam." She paused for gravity, and then continued. "Look at you. You're sweating. Your pupils are huge and," she paused and gestured towards the pacing man. "Now you look like a caged animal who needs to run. What is going on?" she asked gently.

"It's just a bad dream Jess." Sam tried again.

"And that was enough for me a month ago when they happened once in a while. But now, this week, they've happened just about every single night, and sometimes twice a night. Sam. What are you dreaming about?"

Sam paused for a moment and considered what he was going to say, and then finally came out with it. "I've been dreaming about my brother."

"Dean?"

"Yeah."

"What happens in these dreams?" she asked softly.

"I keep dreaming that…." How did he explain without sounding like a weirdo, that he kept dreaming that Dean was getting killed by a monster. Well, the monster doesn't kill him in one fell swoop, no that would be too kind and too gentle, the monster rips a chunk out of him and lets him lie on the ground and bleed to death alone and scared.

"I keep dreaming that my brother dies." He finally said. The sanitary version wouldn't get him locked up in the crazy bin or warrant Jessica to dump him and find a nice safe sane man to love.

Jessica's face became a mask of concern and worry. "Is that the same dream you have every single time you have a nightmare?" she asked softly. Sam nodded quickly.

"It's only been like this for the last couple of weeks."

"You've had a lot of bad dreams in the last couple of weeks."

Sam sat back down on the bed. "You're right I have."

"When was the last time you talked to your brother?"

"Jessica…" She held up her hands defensively.

"I know. I know. That subject is off limits. But this isn't about me wanting you to be on speaking terms with your family. This is your health. You aren't sleeping Sam."

"I'll go to the clinic and get something for insomnia."

She shook her head and sighed. "No. I don't want you to take something that will just blitz you into unconsciousness. I want you to be healthy, I want these nightmares to go away."

Sam shrugged and turned to face the woman he wanted to marry. "But what will calling Dean and arguing with him accomplish other than both of us being angry, and me not sleeping because I'm furious? Besides, it's just a dream."

She put a hand on his arm. "I don't always believe that. Especially when it comes to family."

SNSNSNSNSNSN

"Bobby?" Sam asked when the grouchy hunter answered the phone.

"Sam?"

"Yeah, hey! How are you?"

"Fine as a hair on a frog's ass. But you didn't call to see how an old grump like me is feeling or doing. What's the matter? Something bad going on up there by you?"

"No. No." Sam paused trying to find the right words. "I, uh, well, I've been having this dream."

"A dream huh?" Bobby asked speculatively.

"Yeah. Dean is hunting something, I can't get a visual, and he gets his guts exposed."

"And what does this dream have to do with anything son?"

"I've been having it night after night for about two weeks."

"And you're worried?"

"Yeah, I'm worried it might be some sort of…" Sam struggled for the words and came up empty handed.

"Afraid that it might turn out to be some kind of psychic vision?" Bobby supplied for him.

"That sounds worse when you say it out loud."

"Well, it ain't as dumb as it sounds boy."

"Really?"

"No. There are cases all over the world of twins being able to sense something that is about to happen to the other one."

"But we aren't twins."

"Might as well be, the way you two were before Stanford."

"I've been gone for three years now Bobby, any spidy Dean senses I had are now gone."

"Then search me what the dreams are about."

"Are Dean and Dad together?"

"No. Your brother, last I heard which my intel is kinda old at this point, was up north Minnesota, I believe."

"How old is your intel?"

"About two weeks."

"Do you know what kind of job he's working?"

"No idea. Kinda keeps to himself anymore. Your best bet would be to call him."

"I can't do that."

"Of course you can't."

"It's been three years Bobby."

"And one more day ain't ever going to make it any easier. You boys are as stubborn as they come." Bobby sighed. "Let me call a few guys, see if I can find your idjit brother, if I get some good intel I'll call you."

"Thanks Bobby." Sam said relieved.

"The things I do for you stubborn stupid Wincheste…"

"Bye Bobby." Sam smiled as he hung up on the old grump who was still grumping as he turned off the phone. He would just have to wait, it was that simple, yeah right. The nagging feeling, the images of Dean being gutted and being alone in the woods yelling, whispering, begging, for someone, anyone to come and help him and then his body just giving out and his last breath being expelled, and his eyes wide, glossy, and dead…those images didn't go away, didn't matter if he was awake or asleep.

He went to bed that night, dreamed it again, refreshed the images, just in case they hadn't been seared into his brain, and he looked at his phone, willed Bobby to call and tell him where his brother was.


	2. Chapter 2

Each night that he waited for some form of intel from Bobby yielded more vivid and more disturbing nightmares. By the third night of no information, no phone call, no freaking idea of where to start, he was becoming so agitated that neither he nor Jessica could sleep.

He tried to get her to sleep, told her that he was going to try to sleep on the couch, that maybe the change in venue would allow sleep, restful sleep, to overcome him. But that didn't work and she ended up checking on him more often than she slept. On the fifth night she found him curled into a tight ball against the wall next to the phone. She rushed over to him and knelt down beside him.

"Sam?" she asked patiently and worriedly.

"Something is going to happen to him Jess, I can feel it." His voice was thin and desperate and he shook with fear. "I have to find him. I have to get to him before it is too late." He looked up at her and the tears streaming down his face would have broken even the stoniest heart, and Jessica's heart was by no means stony, tears started flowing down her cheeks in empathy.

She knelt down beside him and wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close. "What did Bobby say when you called him today?"

"He's looking, but when my brother doesn't want to be found…he doesn't get found."

"You said something the other night about you two being close."

Sam sniffed loudly and pulled away from her a little. "We were closer than twins." He said finally. "So close we knew the other's thought before they thought it."

"Then maybe you know where he is? Or how to find him?" She asked.

"No. No. I lost all of that when I came here. Bobby has a better shot at finding Dean."

Jessica's brows knitted together in thought. "Can you describe where he is in your dreams?"

"It's a forest Jess." He said with a shrug. "There are forests everywhere in the country. None of them have any specific tree or detail that makes them identifiable." He pinched the bridge of his nose wishing this could be easier, wished that the ideas she was throwing out would work, that he had a magic tracking spell or something anything to find Dean before his guts were violently spilled onto the ground.

"I don't know what to do Jess." He said softly. Anger started to build in his belly. Anger at his ineptness to do something as simple as find his brother. Anger at the fact that he left Dean all of these years ago. Angry that their father had left Dean alone. Angry that Dean was always the one to suffer while everyone else got exactly what they wanted. Sam stood abruptly feeling as if being on his feet would somehow alleviate the anger in his belly. "I don't know how to fix this!" He yelled his anger audibly transmitted. " I should never have left him!" Jessica stood up. "I shouldn't have let him do the job alone, he told me a thousand times! 'Sammy, this is a two man job. You always want someone with you just in case. Just in case the bad guy gets the drop on you, you want someone at your back.' He ALWAYS told me that! And I never listened. I was always too damn worried about getting away, about making sure that the job wasn't going to be MY life. Well, look! Dean is out there, alone, no one watching his back…" Sam's voice began to quiver with tears. "No one to be there if he gets hurt. No one there to help him, no one to be there with him, if he were to die." Sam's voice cracked at the end of the sentence. "Oh God, Jess, I've screwed up."

She pulled him in close and hugged him. She had no idea what in the world he was talking about, but now wasn't the time for questions, now was the time to support him and help him find his older brother, even if that older brother was in a bar somewhere drinking himself under the table, and not in a forest getting his guts ripped out. She held Sam tighter and prayed that Dean Winchester was actually in a bar getting drunk ignoring Bobby's calls, because at least then they could be mad at him, and being mad at someone was a whole hell of a lot easier when they were alive right in front of you.

SNSNSNSNSNSNS

After fitful sleep that only lasted between thirty seconds and five minutes, the phone rang and Sam struggled to get to it, "Bobby!" he demanded once he had the receiver to his ear.

"I found him."

"Where?"

"It wasn't easy, had to call in all of my markers."

"I don't care. Where is he!"

"Washington state. King County."

"Thanks Bobby."

"Let me know when you find him. Let me know he's okay."

"Will do." Sam ended the call and staggered to his feet, sleep deprivation affecting him more greatly than he wished to admit. Jessica came out of the bedroom, bare feet, hair askew, for she too wasn't getting much sleep.

"You find him?" she asked calmly.

"Yeah." He said walking virtually in circles trying to find his bag.

"Let me get dressed."

"You aren't going."

"Yes I am." She said defiantly.

"Jessica."

"You can barely find your socks. You think you are going to go into the forest alone? I don't think so buddy. I'll be ready in twenty minutes. You do the same. I'll drive. You nap." Sam opened his mouth to protest but she raised a hand. "No arguments." Sam's mouth closed. "Let's go find your brother."


	3. Chapter 3

Jessica had expected Sam to sleep in the car, expected some of the tension to ease out of his body, expected something other than what she got-a bundle of nerves that couldn't sit still, that tapped on the window, that shook the car with his bouncing knee, that asked every other minute where they were and how long she expected it would take them to get there.

She finally, exasperated, pulled the car over onto the shoulder of the road, threw it into park, and turned to face her jittery boyfriend. "You either get yourself under control or I will." She said firmly.

"I can't help it. I…."

"Yes you can help it. I've seen you control your nerves, I've seen you act calm in situations where no one in their right mind could or would be calm. You are allowing yourself to act like this, you are allowing yourself to act like a child and not the cool, calm collected man that you are. Don't make me dose your pop with Benadryl."

Sam swallowed. He didn't know what to say to that. So he took a chance with a "yes ma'am." And fought to control his bouncing legs.

"Good. Now. We just entered Washington State. Give me directions." She said as she put the car into drive, put the turn signal on, and pulled out into traffic.

They stopped at a motel on the outskirts of town. Jessica looked around as she got out of the car. "Are you sure he'd stay at a place like _this_?"

"Yeah. We stayed in places like this all of the time when we were little." He said and took Jessica's hand as they walked towards the main office. "Places like this don't ask too many questions."

"I think that is probably why their nicknames are 'no tell motels' Sam."

He nodded. "Point taken." He pushed open the glass door, and the typical shady guy at the counter resided there, eating beef jerky and watching Jerry Springer on the mini black and white television on the counter.

"Hey." Sam greeted.

The clerk didn't even look up from the screen when he said, "Twenty an hour and I won't report the girl." Jessica shook her head in startled realization.

"No. I'm looking for someone who stayed here."

"I don't remember anyone."

"You haven't even heard a description…" Sam threw a couple of twenties on the counter. The man after hearing the money, turned and faced Sam for the first time.

"I said I was looking for someone."

"I'm listening."

"About 6'1 medium build, dark blonde hair, green eyes, sharp features, he would have been driving a black muscle car."

"1967 Chevy?"

The skin around Sam's eyes relaxed and he nodded. "Yeah, that would be him."

"He took off in that car last night, and I haven't seen him since, but don't matter to me, he paid through the week."

"What room number?"

"My recollection ain't what it used to be." Sam threw two more twenties disgustedly onto the counter never breaking eye contact with the shady clerk.

"Room 14."

"Thank you."

"No, thank _you_." Sam gave a tight smile and pulled Jessica out of the motel, and began to look for the door marked 14.

"Sam! What are you doing?! You just paid that man to give you information! This isn't the movies."

"No. This is the life I spent the last four years running at full speed from." He said as they approached the door with the desired number. He let go of Jessica's hand and pulled out his lock pick set and began to work at the door, it didn't take a moment to get through the substandard lock, it didn't even take long enough for Jessica to get out a full protest, before the door opened.

Inside the smells of his youth flooded him, stale cigarettes, stale vomit, and that underlying funky. Inside, there were two double beds, a green duffle sitting on the floor next to the door, and a salt line in front of the door. Jessica started to move forward but Sam stopped her, swung her around behind him. She protested but he didn't seem to hear her. He knelt down on the floor and looked at the salt line, nothing broken, and looked around the door checking for traps that his brother could have set to possibly slow a predator down so Dean could get a weapon and slow the predator down permanently.

Once he was sure that no traps were set, he took Jessica's hand. "Now step over the line of salt."

"What?"

"My brother puts salt down in front of the door to protect himself." He said without further explanation.

"Housekeeping must just _love_ that." Sam didn't respond. He just went to the duffel bag and unzipped it, inside he found what he expected to find, t-shirts that were faded from time, a jacket frayed around the cuffs, underwear, and button down shirts. Yes, this was his brother's duffel, and if that wasn't proof enough the map on the wall with strings and newspaper clippings solidified Sam's assumptions.

While Sam had been riffling through his brother's duffel Jessica had been standing in front of the map. "What is this?" Jessica asked softly.

"It's his hunting map."

"What in the world is he hunting?"

"A monster."

"A what? Is he a cop or something?"

"No. He's a hunter of things that go bump in the night."

"I don't understand." She said as she turned to face him, the full weight of her eyes on his.

"Jess, I'll explain everything once we get back to school, but I don't have time for you to not believe me, and for me to try to convince you, right now, my brother is out there hunting something that is going to try to kill him." Sam's voice hitched and he took a second, Jessica's hand immediately going to his cheek. "And I need to be there to save him or at the very least be there when he dies." Sam's voice faded as he spoke and suddenly Jessica didn't care if they were hunting a squirrel, a serial killer or a bear, she would go out there and help Sam find Dean, because no one should have that look in their eyes that Sam had right this moment.

She nodded. "Okay. Let's do this. Let's find your brother."


End file.
